The Reciprocity Game
by ofmetalandink
Summary: "I ain't re-evaluatin' nothin'," Abandonin' the shot glass, I grabbed a free chair t' swing around. "A jobs a fuckin' job." I breathed out. "Ain't my fault all the blondes 'round 'ere are fuckin' psychotic, yo." / Sequel to 'The Killing Game', written in Reno's perspective. Rated M for frequent cursing and some adult themes including murder, violence and mild psychological content.


_The Reciprocity Game_

* * *

**Warnings**: Frequent cursing, psychological content (although very mild this time) and mentions/details of murder/gore.

**Timeline**: Post Advent Children.

**A/N**: This is the next installment in my up-coming '_Game'_ series and follows '_The Killing Game_'. It _is_ necessary to have read '_The Killing Game'_ before venturing into Reno's mind and life once again, otherwise nothing here will make the remotest bit of sense. Probably.

* * *

"**Did I ever tell you the definition of insanity?" – Farcry 3.**

"**You should've known from the start  
That it wouldn't last forever  
I can't control myself  
I feel like someone else  
There's a mystery inside my head  
It was you dripping all in red  
Did I hurt you?  
Let me make it safe and sound  
Can you feel me breathing down your neck?  
You're just a perfect little human wreck  
But I like you enough to destroy you, tear you down  
There's nothing you can say or do  
Words mean nothing when your lips are blue  
I love you now that you're six feet underground."  
- Jeffree Starr , **_**Get Away With Murder**_

* * *

That night I'd trudged back t' Healen Lodge torn up n' bloody was a killer, yo. It was disconcertin' t' be handed my ass so quickly, so t' speak. Climbin' t' a sudden height of hysterics only t' be torn back down _fast_, yo… _that_ had been harsher than takin' a blade t' the shoulder.

_7-point-6-fuckin'-2 high velocity; _fuckin' crashed n' wiped out. As I'd predicted, someone went fuckin' spare, yo. But it wasn't Tseng. It was Elena. The almost-still-a-rookie must've thought I was on the verge o' death or some shit, 'cause lookin' back, she made one damn straight hassle; rattlin' shit off like a spitfire n' dancin' 'round the place.

_Cura, Potion, Esuna._ Gaia, talk 'bout wastin' supplies.

"Has anyone got an Elixir?"

"Fuck, 'Lena, m'alright."

"Where have you been, Reno? What the hell happened? What did you do this time? Why don't you take care of yourself? Who did this to you? Why?"

Yea', _yea'_.

Right on back t' same old, same old. Fuck givin' answers girl, just pass the damn alcohol n' everythin'll be _fine_. Unluckily f' me, even a few strong shots o' the good stuff couldn't drown this shit out, 'cause soon 'nough, Elena had called on both Tseng n' Rude. I didn't do m'self any favours; just sunk down ont' the couch with a shot glass n' whatever was left o' the whisky. Must've made a sore sight in any case, 'cause not a one o' 'em looked t' happy.

The Director ain't ever been the type t' lose his temper, yo; none o' that raised voice crap or turnin' ordered rooms int' chaos. He just has this way with him, ya' know. The kinda thing that instantly lets ya' know ya' just landed ya' ass firmly in shit capital n' ain't gettin' out any time soon. First question was where the fuck I'd been. Tch, well I'd been out under the stars, yo. Sounded nice 'nough. Didn't _feel_ t' good, though, n' it only got worse once Tseng dismissed Elena n' Rude, leavin' me t' face him one-on-one with nothin' but a bottle o' fast disappearin' whisky t' keep me company. Was there somethin' goin' on, he wanted t' know.

_Course_ there was somethin' goin' on. There was never somethin' _not_ goin' on. I knew what he was gettin' at, though – was somethin' goin' down that was puttin' the company in danger? The short n' truthful answer was no. Nothin' was goin' on that Tseng or anyone else at ShinRa needed t' concern 'emselves with. Lillian ShinRa was _my_ dig, yo. N' I'd deal with her if push came t' shove. I'd never failed in the line o' duty yet, n' I wasn't 'bout t' start slippin' 'cause some blonde liked t' play hide n' seek just a lil' _too_ well.

As far as shit went, after a thorough grillin' that prob'ly would've bothered me a lot more if I hadn't had alcohol t' neck back, Tseng ordered me t' get cleaned up n' be ready t' come back t' work at first light. That gave me four fuckin' hours. I'd been bankin' on a couple o' days t' sort my shit out, not _hours._ Fuck, yo. As it stood, that wasn't even 'nough time t' get my damn head straight again, never mind rest up n' suit up. I necked a dose o' sleepin' meds soon as half five came 'round, n' then again half an hour later, but still ended up spendin' the remainder o' the mornin' with a fresh bottle o' vodka t' see in the dawn.

* * *

I was late the next mornin', feelin' both a dull hangover n' some sedated effects of the pills I'd necked, but aside from the acknowledgement o' it, Tseng tossed me a dossier n' briefly said that I had work t' be gettin' on with.

I made a mental note not t' piss him off f' at least the entirety o' the day n' left.

I spent my first day back outside o' the complex, runnin' a scout-out on a target - some fucker who was dealin' out spoiled Mako shots under company pretence n' cashin' in on the desperate fucks who were addicted t' 'em. There were plenty o' assholes like this guy, but once their reputation went public n' ShinRa's name was dropped int' the proceedin', we tended t' act at our leisure. I was harsh on the bastard, but only 'cause I _knew_ why Tseng had sent me out on this. I'd realised - belatedly - that Tseng had clearly clocked on that somethin' out o' whack was goin' on with me, somethin' that neither o' us were entirely certain 'bout, n' so he was givin' me routine clean-ups.

It was rookie shit. _Not_ my fuckin' area o' expertise. For one, it'd been fuckin' weeks now since I'd taken the chopper out for any reason at all b'sides maintenance checks. I hoped that someone – maybe Rude - had been keepin' my baby in good condition while I'd been away.

N' any damn way, like I said, this was basic rookie shit. Well, fuck. If Tseng wanted me t' scout shit out n' play clean-up – n' considerin' that this job had only taken a few hours, instead o' the entire day – then I'd sure as fuck get down t' that: on my _own_ fuckin' clock, yo. Soon as I was back on Healen site, I reported in the mission stats – somethin' I usually left 'til last minute – n' queried Tseng for more work, minus the rookie games. Apart from givin' me a glance I didn't like all that much n' a refusal on top o' that, it was time not worth spendin'.

I clocked out, traipsin' t' the only place in Midgar I tended t' frequent nowadays; Seventh Heaven. N' it wasn't t' keep an eye on Strife, either. Sure 'nough, I got a kick outta the expression on spikey's face whenever he saw me knockin' 'round the place, but hell. Was it _my_ fuckin' fault that Strife n' Tifa ran the most reasonably priced bar for streets 'round?

Hell to the no.

I tended t' order a lot o' doubles while in that place, n' lemme tell ya' – pissin' off the management was one thing that never got borin'. Tifa had told me t' leave more than once 'cause I couldn't keep my mouth shut, 'specially when drunk, n' once Cloud had seen me out with a hand wound int' the back o' my shirt. Nice n' friendly. Jus' like good old times. I'll give 'em one thing, though; they never turned me away, despite the past n' all it implied.

That evenin', I took a seat at my usual spot on the bar, shoutin' t' Tifa – or Tits, as I called her – for a round o' the usual. She'd taken t' ignorin' me for the most part just recently, but that didn't stop me from seein' the twitch o' irritation cross her face every time I called somethin' crude out or said somethin' untoward. After slidin' me my first drink o' the night, she made a point o' walkin' over, hands on hips n' expression somethin' serious.

"ShinRa is your concern, isn't it, Reno?"

Well no shit, babe.

"Not off the clock it ain't," I'd hoped that by knockin' back my drink, it would've reinforced the words, but she went on regardless.

"Well, you should make it your concern this time."

_Make_ it my concern? O', _right_. If ya' say so. Why did this suddenly feel predictable, in some way? Almost felt like I was bein' briefed on a job.

"N' what 'cha mean by that?"

She was shakin' her head just ever s'slightly, as if what she had t' say hardly pleased her. "We've had a lot of new customers, lately." She mused, those big eyes o' hers driftin' round the crowded bar. While she took pause, I was holdin' ma' drink mid-swig - waitin'.

"S'nice, but s'hardly my concern – n' it _definitely_ ain't ShinRa's."

"No," Tone sharp, her arms dropped n' she leant 'gainst the bar, givin' the illusion o' privacy – not that we needed it. The entire bar was loud n' full o' drunk fucks. "But it certainly should be."

"N' why's that?"

I was almost at the bottom o' ma' glass. Tits better make this fast, or I'd be jumpin' in t' order more alcohol. Maybe that was her plan – profit from one o' her big spenders. Doubt it, tho'. I spent 'nough in one week alone t' keep her n' Strife open f' 'nother month.

"Because someone was asking after you last night. One of the new faces."

"Who?" I'll admit it; the word snapped out b'fore I could stop it.

"A blonde. She asked me to pass on a message."

Fuck, yo. _Lils_. Had t' be. It was just that fuckin' ironic. In _here_. How'd she _found_ this place? How'd she known it was a haunt o' mine?

"What message?" I knew that I was nothin' but damn straight demandin' shit at this point, but _fuck. _This hide n' seek playin' ShinRa was turnin' out t' be more trouble than I'd anticipated. This shit had t' _stop,_ yo.

"She said, 'You have something of mine and I want it back'."

Ha, yea' I bet she did. Bitch was the one who buried the blade in me, though. I was within my rights t' keep it – war trophy, tch. Either way, I didn't say 'nother word for a time after that. Busy _thinkin'_ again – that shit I hated.

"She looked familiar, Reno." Tifa pressed. "Blonde, blue eyes. Could have been the double of Ruf-"

"-_Aha_." Yea', I know sweetie, I _know_. Neckin' the last o' my drink, I stood, shufflin' out my wallet t' slide over the Gil. Miss fighter-turned-bartender clearly wasn't finished since she held back on passin' back my change. Real stern look on her face, too.

"She knew my name, Reno. I don't _like_ that."

Oh, well sincerest apologies, babe. S'far as I was concerned, Tifa-tits could screw her concerns. I had t' hunt me some rogue ShinRa. But not without gettin' my change back, first. That was still a no-go, judgin' by her expression, though. C'mon Tits, s'it gonna take a word o' reassurance t' move this along?

"Forget it. Ya' won't be seein' her again."

"Is that a promise?"

"S'a fact."

* * *

As it turned out, my rogue ShinRa didn't require much _huntin'_ in the end. In fact, none at all. I just kept up my visits t' Seventh Heaven n' sure 'nough, few weeks later I was shufflin' down int' a seat opposite Miss ShinRa.

She didn't look up. Look _away_ would be a better word, since she was surveryin' the bar.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

The question caught me off guard – mainly 'cause f' some reason, it felt like that should've been _my_ line, not hers. On top o' that, f' a long moment things had been real silent – the sort'a silence I knew came with assessin' how much of a dangerous situation one was in. I went back in my head, recallin' the last time we'd been in one another's vicinity n' jus' what I'd blurted out in my moment o' fuckin' idiocy.

_Talk._

O' shit, yea'.

_I want t' talk._

Hell. Yea', okay. I was good at talkin' - long as the topic wasn't _me. _

"Good o' ya' t' make it so easy f' me t' find ya' this time."

"Figured I'd run you around enough for the time being."

"I run 'round after ya' father all day, every day, kid. You're nothin'." Low hit or not, the comment flicked her eyes ont' me, at least - n' they weren't all that pleased_ ..._neither were Tifa's, come t' think on it - the latter who I'd already noticed was leanin' 'gainst the bar up front n' watchin' our exchange. Well, couldn't blame her. I _had _told her that she'd never be seein' this blonde again.

"That's cute."

"Not as cute as this dive," I said, leanin' forward ont' the table. "D'ya' think ya' safe in 'ere, kiddo? Think I won't be able t' take ya' out with all these people 'round t' watch?"

"Hardly." She said, tone clipped in a way that made me scoff out loud – raised by her mother, n' she'd still managed t' turn int' her father, after all. "You're a Turk. You do what you want. Consequence isn't your concern."

"Least ya' know ya' shit." I said, leisurely shufflin' out a smoke.

"Speaking of which, how's the shoulder?"

Makin' a point o' shruggin' as I lit up, I took a drag n' exhaled a cloud o' smoke. "Good as new since ya' missed anythin' vital. If yer'd aimed lower, say…_here_," I made a gesture t' my upper arm, watchin' the way her eyes both flickered with possible amusement or irritation, "ya' could've torn through the brachial artery n' I'd've been dead in minutes, maybe seconds."

"Thanks for the tip."

I smiled. "What? No _'next time, I won't miss'_ crap?"

She almost smiled. "You think you can bait me."

"I know I can, kiddo."

I would've gone on, but as I took 'nother drag, Tifa decidedly drifted ova' t' where we were seated, hands on her hips but face bright n' open as if she were playin' _meet n' greet_ with any other customers. "You're not going to be making a mess in here are you? I have enough cleaning to take care of once everyone leaves." she said.

"C'mon, Tifa. Would I do that t' ya'?"

Tifa looked very much like she wanted t' snap out somethin' sharp, but kudos t' the girl f' holdin' her tongue. "Yes. You would, Reno. If you have a job to take care of, do it outside of my bar. If you get blood on my floor, I'll be sending the cleaning bill to your boss."

"There's no job t' take care o'. Lay off, will ya'."

Still lookin' concerned, Tifa tipped a look in Lillian's direction, the latter who took a moment t' affirm what I'd just said with a nod. The tactic didn't move Tits along none.

"Shouldn't ya' be more worried 'bout ya' own business? Pretend ya' happy t' see me n' Princess ova' there n' get us some drinks, Tifa." Not that I wanted one, but afta' a rather loud _'tut', _it moved her along in any case.

Once Tifa had departed, Lilli shifted in her seat. "No job?" she repeated sceptically.

I inwardly grinned. So she had either gotten wind o' the fact she was on ShinRa's hitlist, or at least suspected it. As f' me, I was all t' comfortable misleadin' the kid. "S'right, Princess."

"Then why are you here?"

"B'cause s'hard t' look at this in any other way than plain n' simple _personal_ business, kid. You skewered my shoulder n' ran off." I gave her a long look. "That's not very nice."

"You're the one who attacked me." she said pleasantly. "Plus, you keep tracking me."

"B'cause ya' let me." I flicked ash int' the glass tray settled at the side o' the table while the kid set a glare on me. Well, I was righ' in sayin' what I had. If the girl didn't make it so damn _easy,_ there'd be no game in this whatsoever. The fact that shit had escalated was always gonna be more _her_ fault than mine - bein' impaled by a blade tended t' alter one's perspective, see.

"I do not _let_ you." She said.

"Yea' ya' do." I countered airily, leanin' int' the chair at my back. "N' ya' the one who left word with Tits over there," I said, jerkin' my head t' the bar where Tifa stood. "So who's trackin' who, now?"

I almost smiled – Lils seemed almost put out, takin' a while t' gather a retort. "So then in turn, I'm right in saying you must have _let_ me hurt you since that's the type of game we're playing here. If it's an even score you're looking for, get one and leave so that next time, I don't have to _let _you find me."

_An even score. _

Yea'. That would've fixed shit up …_maybe_. Only f' the time bein'. In the end, she'd take off again n' I'd have t' unbalance the scales sooner or later. _The One That Got Away_ needed t' be _The One That Was Obliterated_, instead. But t' do that – n' t' keep Tifa sweet – it'd have t' be done away from Seventh Heaven. Some place a lil' more inconspicuous than a local dive like this. Not t' mention, the last thing the Turks and ShinRa alike needed was fuckin' Strife on our backs again after shit had only just started t' settle down. So despite callin' her out on choice of meetin' place earlier, my shout out had abruptly turned int' a bluff – n' we both fuckin' knew it, yo.

"Doesn't work like that, ShinRa."

"Why? You like playing games?"

Well, since she asked… _tch._

No. Games I could play, but this shit was no game. Not anymore. As leisurely as I could manage due t' implication b'hind the gesture – n' sure 'nough her expression darkened - I slid a hand int' an inside pocket, graspin' the handle o' somethin' that would be familiar t' her, n' without a doubt _more_ than familiar t' m'self by now. I placed the short knife ont' the table b'tween us, slidin' it across t' her. She lowered a hand, pullin' it int' her lap b'fore stashin' it away.

"Looks like new." She acknowledged.

Yea', well it fuckin' would do on account o' how many times I'd had t' clean up n' then sharpen the fuckin' thing after usin' it. Not that she needed t' know that, o'course.

"Ain't keen on keepin' things that mean shit t' someone else." So that was a lie, but it was a fuckin' convenient one all the same.

"It's a knife." she challenged. "Why would you think it means something?"

"B'cause ya' wanted it back." I smiled.

_Rookies_, yo.

At that, she looked surprised, as if my insight had taken her off-guard. She seemed t' shrug it off quick 'nough, though. I was spoutin' nought but common sense, afta' all. "I needed something to get you here," she said. "That's _all_. You had something of mine, it was a convenient message to leave."

"Yea'," I said, tossin' my worn down smoke int' the ashtray. "'N now 'm 'ere."

She was quiet again then, lookin' at me with an air that reminded me a lil' t' much o' Rufus in his years gone by – back when he was still a rookie n' open t' fresh mistakes but not quite in the frame o' mind t' acknowledge that he wasn't as fuckin' _perfect_ as he thought he was. Damn ShinRa's, yo.

"I didn't think you'd come," she said casually, though the feign was easy t' see.

"Well 'ah did. Looks like _ya'_ the one who wants t' _'talk',_ yo. Not me."

"That's right. All _you_ want is blood_._ I remember."

I tipped my head. "Damn right y'are. So talk."

But with that aired, any response she might've thrown my way seemed long lost in the face o' the clear turnabout stunt I'd already pulled. Like I said, yo – _rookies._ S' far t' easy t' nail 'em down. Where the kid's game was sharp out in the field, I now knew that face t' face, she had a lot t' learn. S'what years o' relyin' on evasion tactics would've done t' anyone, yo. Spend t' much time playin' one devoted game n' the rest o' ya' defences n' adaptations get left b'hind. Regardless, personal victory or none, since it seemed Tifa had either forgotten my half-assed order f' some drinks - or plain fuckin' ignored it - I moved t' stand in light of the silence that had descended.

"Maybe not," I said, meetin' her eyes n' gesturin' t' the bar b'hind which Tifa now stood, talkin' animatedly with some half drunken prat. "Next time, don't leave word with tits ova' there, yo. Just call."

* * *

Next time.

_Next _time.

Fuckin' _next time._

Damn right there'd be a next time. The next time would be the one I was plannin' on makin' a personal indulgence o' puttin' her insides on the outside.

'Cept it never happened. Never even got the chance t' fuckin _try _it, yo. Can't say I saw shit comin' the way it did, either. Make no mistake, f' all I'm a disrespectful shit, there's a couple o' people even I don't much fancy crossin'. N' I don't mean Lils, yo. I could handle a kid like her with my fuckin' hands tied. What I couldn't handle however - n' I fuckin' _loathed _settin' m'self up f' it – was walkin' back int' Healen at almost four in the mornin' only t' come face t' face with the fuckin' Director.

Well, shit. Called out, baby. I knew it b'fore he'd even acknowledged me whatso-fuckin'-ever. Prob'ly didn't help that I found cause t' laugh in the face o' bein' caught out, either.

Still. I mean, c'mon. Who the fuck goes t' the trouble o' suitin' up f' work at four in the fuckin' mornin' just t' call someone out? No prizes f' guessin' who, yo. Least he'd gotten int' some brandy – n' goin' by the half empty bottle on the communal kitchen table where he was sat, I wasn't the only one with problems right now. Not that I was 'bout t' fuckin' go _there_, yo. Still, made a good vague distraction. I grabbed m'self a shot glass from the cupboard b'fore sittin' down heavily opposite him.

Tseng's eyes were on the half full glass o' brandy in his hand, but his tone was no less unyieldin'. "Why isn't she dead, Reno?"

Well, I had a reason, yo. More than _one_ in fact. Gettin' 'em voiced was hard t' do when I was busy bein' both pissed at m'self n' that fuckin' blonde who sure as Tseng queried, _wasn't_ dead. "Followed me?" I asked, tippin' m'self a shot n' neckin' it.

"I've been following you for weeks. You're losing your touch."

"_Tch._" 'Nother shot, tar.

"I trust that it isn't necessary to remind you of what a priority one target entails, Reno. Or is '_kill on sight'_ not clear enough for you?"

"S'fuckin' clear, don't start, yo." At risk o' headin' f' a third shot, I fumbled f' a smoke instead.

"Don't _start?_" Apparently, it was the Director's turn t' laugh – albeit the sound got t' me more than I'd like t' admit. "_You_ started this, Reno, and I already know your justifications."

"It ain't like -"

"- Questionable motives on the target's part is not a good enough excuse and neither is upsetting the peace between Cloud and the Turks. You're out of line. As my Second in Command, your conduct is inexcusable."

A'ight. Well done, boss. I was feelin' a lil' put out already, n' the mixture o' alcohol n' smoke was doin' nothin' but makin' me feel downright sick. Regardless, I _almost_ managed t' pour m'self 'nother shot b'fore the brandy bottle was wrenched outta my hands n' slammed t' one side.

"You've had enough for one night, wouldn't you say?"

I snorted. "_No_." Not unless ya' counted the five, plus six and then three more drinks I'd had at different venues afta' leavin' Seventh Heaven.

"Don't make me take you off the case, Reno. It makes for more trouble having to come up with a convenient reason to the President for my doing so than anything other – and you're more foolish than even I thought if you think your behaviour over these past few months _hasn't_ earned you his attention."

"Not like he's said shit."

"No," Tseng said with an edge that made me look up. "Not to you."

"Takin' the fall f' me, boss? Didn't know ya' cared s'much."

The Director raised the glass in his hand, knockin' back what was left. "It's my job."

I looked away. A'ight. So I'd caused more trouble than I knew. Not like it was the first time. Still, I'd fucked up. It also wouldn't be the first time Tseng had taken the fall f' me, either. He was just reinforcin' the fact.

"Sort it out, Reno. I'm giving you a month." He said, movin' t' stand n' givin' me a long look. It wasn't even as if Tseng was the type t' raise his voice, yo. All he needed was the authority n' respect b'hind him – n' trust me, yo. He fuckin' had it. "One month to track her down and take her out. Otherwise, I'm taking you off the case altogether and instead of answering to me, you can explain yourself to Rufus."

* * *

I didn't need a month.

S'far as I was concerned, that was a _far_ t' generous proposal right from the word '_go'_. As it happened, two short weeks down the line n' a fast few day's o' work got me just what I'd wanted from the moment Tseng had opened his mouth t' rebuke me: a downed ShinRa n' a torrent o' blood.

Not that she was _dead._ Not just _yet_. See, there were a few things t' clear up first. Like lettin' the fact sink in that she was fuckin' _done_ f'.

"I thought you said this was _personal_."

"Yea'."

"Well, you've fucking returned the favour. Scores are even. Now back the hell up."

"_Ha_-"

_No chance_. Not in Heaven or Hell. Real satisfyin' t' have an almighty fuckin' egotistic ShinRa on the ground, grimacin' n' bleedin' out though, lemme tell ya'. All bets were off from the moment the order had been given all that while ago. N' sure, I could take my time n' draw things out as I saw fit f' as long as I wanted – 'til Tseng had gotten in on the game. Now, all it had come down to was a brief chase through the early mornin' streets o' Midgar (ain't nobody out runnin' the _fastest _Turk) n' a tussle that had been in my favour from the very beginnin'. N' soon 'nough, there was a blade in her shoulder n' the nearby convenient quietude of an abandoned building t' take advantage o'.

"We're _even_!"

"Yea', we're even, kiddo." I said, reachin' f' a smoke since she was clearly goin' nowhere fast. "Doesn't detract from the sentence ova' ya' head."

"_Sentence_?" The word was half a grimace, but couldn't blame the kid - I was _more_ than adept at wound placement. She could struggle with makin' the decision t' pull that blade out or not f' as long as she liked, but it did nothin' t' excuse what I could already see she'd concluded. "I'm a target."

"Damn right."

She growled in what I suspected was a mixture o' both pain n' frustration. Either way, it amused me. "_Who_ ordered it?"

"Ya' know damn well who ordered it."

"Wasn't satisfied with his father, huh? Had to have me taken out, too?" she panted, hand curled around the handle o' the blade buried in her shoulder. "_Fucking_ coward."

"Rufus didn't kill his ol' man." I mumbled around the smoke in my mouth, lightin' it with a fast flick o' my lighter.

"He tried."

Well, _well_. No doubt the drop was deliberate (ol' tactic o' '_I have information you need to know'_) but it seemed like all those suspicions from months gone by had been right. Lillian ShinRa was lookin' more n' _more_ like an inside job as every second trickled on. Turk logic called f' protocol – she knew t' much. The all-round solution was death. She was _already_ a fuckin' target. My _only_ course o' action should've been t' make a fast job o' slicin' her up real nice, dispose o' the body n' get a report back t' Tseng that would've straightened out my record again.

But I didn't.

What I did do was take a pull on my smoke n' sat down on the creaky wooden floor. The singular filthy window in the room gave more than 'nough moonlight t' see by.

"How d'ya know that?"

"I thought everybody knew _that_." She shot.

"'Nough games," I exhaled a cloud o' smoke. "We're playin' t' many at once as it is. _Talk -_ n' in return I'll kill ya' real quickly."

She grimaced, swappin' her grip on the blade's handle f' one pressed against the wound, breath hitchin'. "What …kind of deal is that?"

"It's no deal at all. Either way, I get what I want – n' just so ya' know, I've been lookin' forward t' hearin' ya' scream f' a _while_, so talkin' is ya' only option."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"'Nothin?"

"Except for _fuck you._"

"We can play that game as well," I said mildly, tappin' some ash ont' the floorboards. "So watch ya' fuckin' mouth."

_Tch._ T' say I was goin' _easy _on the kid was puttin' it far t' fuckin' mildly. The usual scenario would've been t' have blood splashed up the walls like a fresh coat o' paint within the first five minutes. All this kid had t' worry 'bout was a wounded fuckin' shoulder. What goes around fuckin' _comes_ around, yo. Not as if I didn't get it – it _hurt_. I'd fuckin' _know, _right? N' fair 'nough, she was startin' t' shiver from blood loss, but c'mon; _still playin' the game 'ere, kiddo._

"Tell me how the fuck ya' know _what_ ya' know."

"How do you know what you know?" she asked, losin' some o' her ferocity.

_How do you know what you know?_ Well, I'm a Turk baby. S'my job t' _know_. N' sure as hell, I knew what she was sayin'. Turnin' the query back on me wasn't gonna do much good. Sure, it was just as much _her _job t' know, as well. Information is survival – t' a point. Still, didn't answer my question n' as it was, I'd never really been big on _patience, _so I reached f' my EMR.

"Talk, Princess." F' all the threat was heeded – given the way she shrunk in on herself n' took in my customary weapon o' choice, she also didn't say a damn word. "_Tch_. A'ight." I tossed my smoke aside n' moved t' stand. "Ya' want me t' take ya' apart slowly, instead. I get it."

"Reno-"

"Hey, this ain't nothin' new," I shrugged as I advanced, lightin' up some electricity with a quick press o' the button.

"_Reno_-"

"Same ol', same ol'. _Remember_? Swiped ya' with this back in the forest all that time ago. Ya' know what it feels like."

"Stop it!"

"What?" I halted barely a foot away, lookin' down, tappin' my EMR against my leg. "Ya' wanna talk _now_? Don't think I'm up t' listenin' t' what ya' have t' say any- _fuck._"

Last time I'd misjudged this kid, I ended up with a skewered fuckin' shoulder n' now, the bitch had wrenched the blade from her _own_ damn shoulder n' swiped at my shins.

_Bitch._

"Ya' scream real nice, Lils." T' fuckin' right she did, n' all. Tearin' a knife (serrated o'course – jus' returnin' the favour!) outta y'self ain't pleasant. Still, the effort had taken its toll since no sooner had she slashed out, she'd curled in on her shoulder. Overall, bad idea. S'that? A completely open target t' attacks? Well, fair payment meant a good swipe with my EMR – only difference was, I didn't damn well _miss._ A hit t' the side o' her head sent her down in an instant.

"Now, that wasn't very _nice."_ Grabbin' her injured shoulder (cue 'nother one o' those _real_ nice shrieks) I wrenched her ont' her back n' wrangled the knife outta her hand b'fore she could react - not that she was puttin' up much o' a fight at this point. "Now listen. _Listen._" I hissed, holdin' her down while she made t' get some advantage back – somethin' hard t' do when there's a blade diggin' int' ya' throat. "I said _listen_-"

"Rufus." She retorted instantly.

"_What_?"

"Rufus. I'll talk to Rufus."

I paused. "Ya'll talk t' the Pres'." I repeated back, truthfully strugglin' with that one m'self.

"Yes!"

"What fuckin' difference does it make _who_ the hell ya' talk to? Already gave ya' the chance, Lils…n' ya' won't be talkin' ever _again_ once I rip ya' fuckin' vocal chords out."

"_Please_, Reno."

"Tell me why, then."

"What?"

"This some sort o' fuckin' _parlay_? Why _Rufus_, yo?"

She seemed t' waver f' a moment then, eyes still big, wide, blue n' clearly fuckin' terrified, but voice unexpectedly vulnerable. "Because he's my father."

* * *

I was still makin' up my mind 'as t' whether the kid had been playin' me as I ushered her down the upstairs hallway, proddin' her in the back non t' lightly with my EMR t' get her movin' faster.

_Because he's my father._

Tch, yea'. N' that made a difference how? There it was – just the question I was askin' m'self. How _did_ it make any difference? That was the reason she was bein' taken out in the first place, right? N' more importantly, why the hell did it make _such _a difference as t' have me wrangle her up off the floor n' change my fuckin' mind all over again? I should've killed her. Right now, I should've been settin' this place alight right along with her body, but instead, I was pushin' her down the ol' creakin' stairs n' givin' a silent warnin' by way o' havin' my EMR placed against her lower back.

_Run, _ShinRa. Fuckin' _run._ I was almost hopin' she would, wantin' some kind'a excuse t' finish her.

_Excuse_, yo!

I mentally cursed m'self f' that one. I was a _Turk_! I didn't need any fuckin' excuses! I had strict fuckin' orders t' _kill_ n' instead, there I was marchin' her outta that abandoned buildin' n' tryin' t' convince m'self I needed just _one_ more excuse t' take her out. Just _one _more. "I swear t' Gaia, ShinRa. Ya' make a run f' it n' I'll take ya' down b'fore ya' can even scream this time."

"I won't."

F' some reason, I believed her.

* * *

By the time we'd arrived at Healen, the sky had tipped down some harsh rain, n' my blonde-in-tow had begun t' curse under her breath – 'specially when I took it upon m'self t' wrap a length o' fabric around her eyes as we passed outta Midgar– always prepared, yo - n' guide her with a hand on her elbow. Somehow, I don't think she appreciated the few times I left her t' her own devices, darin' her t' take the makeshift blindfold off n' follow me. It was good f' a laugh after a long night o' bemusement if nothin' else, but ultimately, it just slowed us down.

It was gettin' on f' half past seven in the mornin' when I finally opened the door t' Healen Lodge, shovin' her in ahead o' me – n' coincidentally straight int' Tseng.

"Have you brought her back for a communal murder?" he asked, expression far from impressed. Well, shit. I'd known I was settin' m'self up f' 'nother bollockin' but this time, it seemed worth it.

"Nah. Parlay request, since ya' ask."

"Parlay?" Tseng repeated, holdin' ont' the kid's elbow much the same way as I had done, while the latter seemed quite silently out o' all elements n' thoroughly exhausted by now. She must've felt like utter shit – bled out n' good arm clutchin' at that wound in her shoulder - but I sure as hell didn't. I remembered makin' a similar trek back with a wounded shoulder once-upon-a-fuckin'-time. If anythin', I felt like thorough payment had been met.

"You've made a mess of her." Tseng was sayin', takin' in her bloodied shirt. "Seems like a strange parlay to me."

"Or a belated one." I offered, swingin' up my EMR outta habit , tappin' it against my shoulder.

F' all the Director gave me a look, he moved t' wrench the curtains in the room closed b'fore goin' t' tug off the kid's blindfold. She started at the sudden movement, flashin' both Tseng n' me equally startled looks in turn. "Well, don't you look familiar." Tseng commented, though the words seemed more f' himself than anyone else. Then, t' me: "We don't entertain mercy requests, Reno. What makes this one different from any of the others?"

I came up short o' an answer f' a moment. "Mm? Well, s'like she's been sayin'. The Pres' is her father, so-"

"-So it makes for a nice sympathy vote?"

"No," I countered.

Tseng took a deep breath n' then stepped away, returnin' t' the papers strewn over the coffee table. "Well, good luck."

"Ya' what?"

"I said _good luck_. I'm not covering for you again, Reno. I told you that if you didn't fulfil your mandate within a month, you could answer to the President. So now," he waved a hand towards the open hallway door. "Go and answer to him."

"It hasn't _been_ a month, yo." I pointed out.

"Then you'd say your actions thus far have fulfilled your mandate?" he queried, not lookin' up from the report in his hand.

I held back a curse. Fuckin' _technicalities_. '_Well then'_, I nearly suggested, _'shall I cut her throat right here n' let her bleed all ova' the fuckin' floorboards?_' Shit, no. We'd never get the stains out. A nice blood patch right by the front door f'ever fuckin' more. That just wouldn't _do, _would it? Instead o' speakin' my mind, I swung a hand up, grippin' the kid by the back o' the neck n' directin' her t'wards the open hallway door.

Well, I _had_ acted outta turn.

Again.

S'pose it would've been nothin' but stupid t' expect any more or less from the Director. Still, the prospect o' Rufus' reaction t' our current predicament didn't entirely thrill me, neither. These fuckin' unpredictable blondes were 'nough t' drive me insane, yo; one f' a boss, one f' a target. Thank fuck I was a redhead.

"Want a tip, Princess?" I started as we reached the end of the hall, coastin' t' a stop. She didn't speak, but she did look at me as I moved t' put m'self b'tween her n' the door in front. "Watch that mouth o' yers."

After receivin' a verbal affirmation t' my raps on the door, I pushed it open, careful t' keep my attention n' EMR on Lils. "Sorry t' disturb ya', Sir." The Pres' had never been one t' be thrilled at disturbances, 'specially not this early in the mornin'.

"Come in, Reno."

I gestured with my EMR f' her t' go ahead o' me. "Move." She did.

T' say Rufus look'd surprised would be an _over_statement, yo. Ya' read that right. _Overstatement_. He barely raised his fuckin' eyebrows, but nevertheless gave me a look that reminded me unpleasantly of the one Tseng had given me moments ago.

"Have you brought her in to be executed in front of me, Reno?" he asked pleasantly, though not without a satire that was damn typical o' him. "Rather thorough. I would have made do with your word for it."

"No, Sir."

"Then?" he settled back in his chair.

"She says she'll talk t' ya'."

"Talk?"

"Yea'."

"And you indulged that."

"Yes'sir."

F' a long moment, nobody sayin' nothin' at all, leavin' the atmosphere feelin' temperamentally treacherous. Rufus was a hard t' read guy, yo. He was anythin' _but_ predictable, n' for a brief minute, I was fuckin' certain I'd made one hell'uva mistake.

"Then I suppose I'll indulge it, as well. You can wait outside, Reno."

In another situation, I might've insisted on stayin' put given the fact that Lils was no literal pushover, but I thought better o' it n' merely affirmed the order, givin' her a quick pat down n' removin' her weapons. I suppose in hindsight I could've confiscated 'em earlier, but things had been t' much t' my own advantage. The only armaments I found were blades – the one I'd given her back in Seventh Heaven n' another similar sort'a one. Pocketin' 'em, I left the room, closin' the door n' hoverin' f' a moment b'fore I caught sight o' Tseng comin' outta the kitchen up ahead. He stopped and looked my way.

"Well?"

I shrugged, shovin' my free hand int' the pocket where I'd stowed her knives. "They're talkin'."

Yet again, 'nother look passed across Tseng's face, this one different from the others. "What?" I called out when he failed t' say anythin' else, careful t' keep my voice low.

The Director shook his head. "For your sake, you'd best hope whatever they're talking about works to your advantage."

"Or what?"

"Or else you may turn out to be _my_ next target, Reno."

* * *

It was near ten AM b'fore either Rufus or his brat surfaced – n' I only knew that 'cause there was a clock in the hall. Guard duty was fuckin' _borin' _at the best o' times, but this time 'round my own nerves were keepin' me on edge. I pressed my ear t' the door several times, but I couln't hear shit. Mumbled voices, but nothin' intelligible. For all I knew, she could've moved t' fuckin' killed him in there at any moment, or vice versa, but somehow, I doubted both scenarios. When it passed the first half an hour mark, Tseng made an unobtrusive show o' droppin' by with some reports or what-the-fuck-ever, but he emerged with barely a shrug n' simply repeated my own words back t' me: "They're talking."

_Great._

This entire situation was _real_ fuckin' accommodatin'. Tsh, yea' right. It was _my_ fault, yea'…but no less goddamn frustratin'. N' what didn't fuckin' help was the fact that I couldn't help but keep thinkin' on my last brief exchange with Tseng.

"_For your sake, you'd best hope whatever they're talking about works to your advantage."_

"_Or what?"_

"_Or else you may turn out to be my next target, Reno."_

Tch. Right. Like they'd knock me off _so_ fuckin' easily; I was a valuable fuckin' asset with irreplaceable skills n' as well as I knew it, so did fuckin' they. Still, can't say it didn't bother me a lil'. I ended up blamin' the entire state o' affairs, includin' the way I felt, on the pair o' blondes b'hind that closed door n' only really managed t' shake off my thoughts when the sound of the handle turnin' grabbed my attention.

The indication of resentment was no longer traceable in Lilli's eyes, n' she look'd _surprised_; as if she had no more expected t' see me again than walk outta that room alive. T' be honest, neither had I. I raised my eyebrows in a silent question of, '_The hell?_' at first, but quickly recovered, makin' a show o' tappin' my EMR. "What's the verdict, Princess?"

Lils opened her mouth, but it was not her voice than answered me. Rufus appeared in the doorway. "The verdict, Reno, is that _Princess_ can go as she likes."

I managed a sheepish sort o' nod. _Princess._ A'ight. I'd drop that one, then. When the Pres' was around, anyway.

"You and I, on the other hand, are going to talk."

"Now?"

"Do you have some prior commitment?"

"No, Sir."

"I didn't think so." N' with that, he turned back int' his office, clearly expectin' me t' saunter in after.

"_Tch_…" I hissed n' followin' afta' him, closed the door b'hind me with more force than ended up goin' down well with Rufus.

* * *

T' say I was down in everyone's bad books would've been an understatement, yo. It felt like my fuckin' name had been emblazoned across the fuckin' pages o' said books or some shit. Yea', like anyone really needed _remindin'_. Soon as Rufus was done makin' me feel like shit, I left in search o' a good drink. Instead, I found Tseng at the kitchen table.

He didn't look up as I passed, but apparently he'd moved his work from the sittin' room t' the kitchen. "What's the verdict?" he asked, makin' me grimace. So he'd also overheard my exchange with Rufus earlier. Nice way o' droppin' that one in.

"Guess who's on patrol duty f' the next fuckin' month?" I replied in a deliberately bright tone, reachin' out a glass n' placin' it ont' the counter with enough force t' make the noise echo around the quiet room.

Tseng made a noise that sounded _satisfied_. "Good. Perhaps some time at the Lodge will give you the opportunity to re-evaluate your behaviour as of late."

I almost choked on the shot I'd poured. "I ain't re-evaluatin' _nothin'_," Abandonin' the shot glass I instead grabbed a free chair t' swing around. I sat down n' crossed my arms ova' the back. "A jobs a fuckin' _job_." I breathed out, repressin' a yawn n' leanin' my head on top o' my folded arms. "Ain't my fault all the blonde's 'round 'ere are fuckin' nutters, yo." He did not rise t' my attitude. T' bad, but I was used t' it. "Where's the brat, anyway?"

"Fixing her shoulder."

I scoffed. "Heard from Rude t'day?"

Tseng's nod was slight. "Him and Elena are on clean up. They should be back with us within the next forty-eight hours."

Rude n' the almost-still-a-rookie had been on a job in Wutai for the past two weeks. Nothin' they couldn't handle, but I'd been disappointed t' find I hadn't been commissioned f' it; I knew Wutai well.

Eventually, Tseng gathered his papers n' other crap n' then moved t' stand. "Since Rufus is finished with you," he said, pullin' me outta an exhausted reverie, "I'll need to talk to him."

"Yea', ya' do that," I encouraged none t' enthusiastically, "'cause like hell he explained a word o' what the _fucks_ goin' on t' _me._"

"I figured."

Yea', ya' _figured_ a'ight.

S'a good thing we have the Director, yo. 'Cause there ain't nobody else on the whole o' Gaia got the time, excess sanity, patience or fuckin' _tact_ t' deal with a complicated man like Rufus fuckin' ShinRa.

As far as it was f' now, it look'd like all bets were off. That wasn't t' say they were, o'course. I'd need verbal confirmation b'fore I could call it out, but somethin' was tellin' me that my next target wouldn't be quite so challengin' or as damn near complicatin' as this one had turned out bein'. As f' what the next month had in store, I'd hav'ta wait n' see.

Tseng had already left the kitchen, but I scraped my chair back n' shouted afta' him anyway.

"_Yo! Find out what my next assignment is!"_

* * *

**A/N:** There we have it. Second installment in the "_Game_" series. More to come, o'course. This is usually where I'd put my mini explanation or whatnot, but I feel this fic is pretty straightforward for the most part – providing you've read '_The Killing Game_' first.

In other news, as always I'm still open to requests, so send them my way. I've also undergone a career change as of late; nothing like a new job to informally commit writer's suicide on your behalf, but regardless I'll be drilling these ideas out as fast as time and frame of mind permit, but that is generally why I've been pretty quiet as of late.

As ever, thanks very much for taking the time to glance over what I hope might have been an enjoyable read for you. Criticism – constructive or otherwise – is appreciated.

Lyrics/words used: '_Get Away With Murder'_ by _Jeffree Star_ and initial opening quote featured from the game '_Farcry 3_'.


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